


Walk Me Through The Meaning of Christmas

by constantconfusion14



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien missing his mom, Bit of Fluff, Christmas Story, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette being fantastic 'just a friend', Mild Angst, also a bit of Adrien realizing this girl might not be 'just a friend'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28247373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantconfusion14/pseuds/constantconfusion14
Summary: For Adrien, Christmas isn't warm anymore. He wishes he could enjoy the warmth and spread the holiday cheer like the rest of the Paris, but he just can't. At least, that what he believes. But maybe, just maybe, a late night visit to a certain friend can help bring the wonder back into the season.Written for the Miraculous Writer’s Guild December Event 2020.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29
Collections: Miraculous Writer's Guild December Event





	Walk Me Through The Meaning of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Excuse my french, but what the hell is a Christmas croissant?" by the amazing adrienscroissantx. 
> 
> ...except I initially misremembered the prompt as "Pardon my french, but what the hell is a Christmas?" so the tone came out a little different than one might expect. I did manage to incorporate both prompts, but this kinda turned into a story for everyone who's missing a loved one this holiday season. 2020 was a tough year for a lot of us, but hopefully we can remember them warmly rather than focusing on the loss. For me, I wrote this story for my uncle and grandfather who passed this year and will be deeply missed. I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> Also, shoutout to raspberryjamus for beta reading!

A deep bellow cut through the silent night of Paris. A dozen chimes rolled over the Seine and the buildings stacked on its river banks. The sound was powerful, echoing over the vast city in front of him. Chat Noir listened attentively, feeling each stroke reverberating through his body. Even as the ringing began falling to a hush, the sound of the bell tower stayed true to itself, holding on to its fading note with everything it had. When it finally had to release the echoes of the last golden tone, the city fell back into a deep, suffocating silence.

It pierced through him, like a gust of wind he hadn’t expected. Even though his suit protected him from the cold, Adrien tightly wrapped his arms around himself. Despite every bit of logic telling him to go home, he was glued to his spot atop the Notre Dame Cathedral. Something about the stillness of the city on Christmas Eve was captivating. His eyes wandered to the reflection of the stars on the water, streaked and blurry as if the world was crying and it’s misty eyes were making everything look a little...off.

Adrien sniffled quietly and dragged the back of his hand across his eyes. Everything instantly shifted back into focus. He sighed shakily. It wasn’t the world around him that projected its mourning on the glowing city. It was him. It was his misty eyes that blurred the gleaming Christmas lights strung up on every building. It was the sound of his sniffles that cut through the air like the chime of a powerful clock tower. It was  _ his _ life that was off, not the world around him. 

In fact, the world was cheerful today. His elevated vantage point mixed with his superhuman eyesight allowed him to easily see into other people’s lives. Most windows were dark, indicating the children dreaming of sugar plums and whatever other nonsense the classic Christmas stories told them to dream about. Most apartments were pitch black, save for an obnoxious, glowing tree planted right in front of the window. The colorful lights laughed at him as they shone their beauty on the world. The twinkling lights mocked his sorrow. 

Had he been two years younger, Adrien would have been thrilled to be gifted such a sight. He would’ve been glued to this spot for an entirely different reason, unable to take his eyes off the city. Paris was already beautiful on any ordinary night, but on Christmas it was stunning. Everyone knew this, including Adrien, but tonight he only felt sickened by it all.

Because he wasn’t two years younger. He no longer carried the same weightlessness that came with the love of two parents at home. Now all he could see was the shimmer of his mother’s beautifully vibrant eyes in each tiny Christmas bulb. All he could hear was her laughter in place of the vanishing echoes of the bell tower. All he could feel was the lack of warmth wrapped around his shoulders as Paris welcomed Christmas Day. 

Adrien was quickly becoming lost in his grief. He deepened his own hug, hoping that whatever love for himself he could gather would be enough to make up for the lack of his mother’s. He squeezed himself as thin snowflakes fell around him. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t bring him the comfort he was looking for. His mother had loved him unconditionally. That was a concept Adrien was still teaching himself. Without his mom there to show him the ropes, he found the idea of any unconditional relationship becoming a fantasy. Lately, there only ever seemed to be more and more conditions. 

The air in front of him froze suddenly as he released another uneasy sigh. “Pull it together, Adrien.” He whispered to himself as he blinked more wetness from his eyes. “Just don’t focus on it. Think about...think of…” Adrien scanned his eyes across the city, hoping to find anything other than the shimmering snow and Christmas lights. There had to be  _ something _ in this world that wasn’t-

A streak of pink caught his eye. Instantly, his eyes locked on to whatever it might have been. He squinted slightly as he gazed into the darkness, deciphering what he might’ve seen. Peeking out of the shadows was a balcony, inhabited by a tiny silhouette illuminated by a string of magenta light. The unique color alone was appealing as it stood out alone against reds and greens and multi-colors. Strangely though... A pinkish red light seemed to be hovering right in front of the girl’s face. Or was it  _ on  _ her face? Chat Noir cocked his head sideways and uncurled himself slightly, creeping over closer to the edge of the Cathedral to get a closer look. 

The building he was looking at was none other than the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. Which meant the figure on the balcony had to have been- “Marinette.” Adrien breathed out, a smile forcing its way onto his face as he recognized the familiar frantic motions of his friend from afar. She appeared to be talking to herself, complete with grandiose gesticulations. It was kind of cute. 

As much as Adrien felt a need to be alone right now, he also felt a deep want for company. It might have been midnight on Christmas eve (or was it Christmas day now, technically?) but he couldn’t deny his need for a friend at the moment. Besides...Marinette was clearly already awake and on her balcony for some obscure reason. Maybe she wouldn’t mind some company from a superhero? Chat Noir closed the gap between them before he had a chance to second guess himself. 

Marinette must’ve noticed a shape heading towards her because she quickly turned her in his direction. He watched her frantically grab the strange light off her face and throw it somewhere behind her. She stood rigidly with her hands tucked behind her back as Chat silently landed on her railing. 

“Chat Noir? Is something wrong? Is there an akuma?” She looked panicked, checking behind him for any potential villains. 

Adrien tried to smile confidently as Chat Noir would, but now that he was standing here in front of her, he was starting to lose his backbone. He shouldn’t have come and bothered her. “Oh! No, no, no. Don’t worry. I was just out for some air and saw you over here. Thought I’d stop by to find out who in their right mind would be outside on such a furr-eezing cold night. Er-morning I guess.”

A look of calm confusion flooded over her features. Judging by her facial expression, shifting between subtle emotions, he could tell she didn’t really know how to react. “Um...well, thank you? I might ask you the same thing, though.” She finally decided on a warm smile as her mouth upturned into a gentle grin. Adrien was jealous of how easily she could conjure genuine happiness.

He took a moment to reply, leaving an awkward silence hanging in the air between them until he laughed nervously. “Oh, uh well...I’m uh...just doing my midnight patrol of the city. Never can be too careful with all these hooligans running amok.” Ugh,  _ what?  _ Why would he say that?? “Um...anyway. I hope you enjoy your evening. Don’t uh-don’t catch a cold. Inside. Er, you should  _ go _ inside is what I’m saying. Yeah. It’s cold out. Anyway, I guess I’ll see ya around.” Chat blinked and shook his head slightly.  _ I really butchered that interaction, didn’t I _ ? Upon seeing a heavy look of confusion dusting Marinette’s eyes, he tried to smile but it came out as more of a wince.  _ Better quit while I’m ahead _ . Adrien’s muscles tensed as he prepared to leap away from the girl and into the wintry whiteout around them. 

“Wait-” A small, warm hand grabbed his wrist and forced his actions to melt away. “We both know that was a terrible excuse. Why are you really out here? Something tells me you and Ladybug don’t actually do midnight patrols. Seems a bit above and beyond your job description.”

A huff puffed out of his nose before he could stop it, turning the air visible for a moment as it drifted away with the wind. “Ha! Even if I had a job description, I’m sure most of the things Ladybug and I have had to deal with would  _ not _ be on it. I mean, can you imagine someone typing out ‘must deal with Mr. Pigeon each and every time he gets akumatized without harming his precious birds’? It’s just ridiculous.”

Marinette laughed freely, the sound bubbling out of her with no restraint. “I’m pretty sure Mr. Pigeon would be the first thing  _ on _ your job description based on how often you two have to save him.”

Was it crazy that Adrien already felt better? Was Marinette’s sparkling personality just that infectious? “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point there.” With nothing to follow up with, silence stepped between them again. He tried to reply something sharp, but nothing clicked in his brain like it normally would. His mind was muddled, not prepared for words of wit. 

“So are you gonna answer my original question or are you gonna force me to stand out in the cold,  _ on Christmas _ no less, and worry about you all night?” Marinette still hadn’t let go of his arm, holding it tightly. Adrien briefly wondered if she’d just forgotten she was gripping him or if she was afraid he’d run away. Even the thought of her worrying about his masked identity spread a warmth through his heart. Marinette had always cared about others more than she needed to. It was just who she was: selfless. 

Despite her offer, Adrien wasn’t exactly in the mood for dropping his guard and spilling his secrets tonight. He defaulted to his typical method of dealing with things: deflection. She couldn’t use the holiday to guilt-trip him into staying if he pretended not to celebrate it, right? Still crouched on the railing like a cat stuck on a fence, he feigned a look of deep and utter confusion. “Pardon my french but what the hell is a Christmas?”

Chat withheld a wince. Maybe that was playing a little  _ too _ dumb. 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You know, the winter holiday with all the trees and candy canes and pretty lights? It’s part of the season of giving?”

If he doubled back now on his own previous answer, would it be too suspicious? Marinette was one of the smartest people he knew, especially when it came to emotional intelligence. It was probably better to play this off as banter to keep her from thinking too much of it, right?  _ Ugh, stupid lack of social skills _ . This is why Adrien had wanted to attend school, but it seemed after two years there was still plenty of room for improvement. He decided to go with the easiest path and play along. “Mmmm….nope. Never heard of it.”

She smiled again and Chat swore it could’ve lit up the entire city if he hadn’t been soaking up its entirety. “Come on, not even Santa? I’m pretty sure you and Ladybug saved him a year ago to the day.”

Chat bit his lip and tilted his head. “Sorry, princess. Not ringing any bells. It must’ve been the substitute Chat Noir that night.” He smiled again, but it was gradually beginning to feel more and more sincere. It was as if the minor contact of Marinette’s arm on his was pumping him full of the Christmas spirit...even if he wasn’t supposed to know what it was. 

The girl in front of him shook her head, tugging on his arm a little more. “Well….if someone’s never even  _ heard _ of Christmas, I certainly can’t let you go off into the night without being educated, now can I?”

He would have resisted her pull, but he didn’t want to. Chat allowed his center of balance to be pulled off to the side and slipped his feet fluidly down to meet her balcony. “This Crust-Mess must be a big deal, huh?” 

Marinette scoffed and finally released his arm. She gestured out to all of Paris, blinking back at them merrily with all its lights and wonder. “First off, it’s  _ Christmas _ . And yeah, you could say that. Now, don’t get me wrong; not everyone celebrates it and there are plenty of other great winter holidays like Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. But that being said, the overall theme of the season is kindness. I think this is the one time of the year when people legally  _ aren’t _ allowed to be sad. I mean, even Chloe and I put aside our differences last year. She came into the bakery and we just stared at each other for a moment before my- Chat Noir?” The abrupt ending to her speech pulled Adrien’s attention towards her immediately. He hadn’t realized he’d allowed a shadow of his grief to fall over his face when she’d gestured to the Christmas lights decorating Paris. Of course the ever-observant Marinette would’ve caught his mood change. 

She tried to edge her way back into his field of view. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I uh...I think snowflake made a targeted strike against my eye.” He wiped his face quickly and pasted his carefree smile back on. “My apologies, princess. What were you saying about all those gaudy lights outside?”

He hadn’t convinced her. Not even for a second, but she graciously let it slide. Normally, Adrien was a certified professional at keeping his true feelings from creeping up on to his facial features. But there was just something about Marinette that let him think it was okay to relax. Around her, he felt like it was okay to show vulnerability, even sadness. Did he want to? No, absolutely not. He  _ wanted _ to maintain his impervious facade. Around her, he  _ wanted _ to be a hero. So then why was something deep inside telling him it was okay to be something else tonight?

Marinette smirked and shook her head. “I don’t think they’re gaudy. I think they’re beautiful. I think all of Christmas is beautiful.” She glanced over to watch Chat’s reactions to her words. As soon as he noticed she was expecting something, Adrien pasted another clueless look to his face to keep up the act. “It’s about life and wonder. It’s about giving to others simply because you can. You’re  _ sure _ you’ve never heard of this holiday?”

Was it just him, or was the light reflecting off the snow in the air causing a halo effect around his classmate? Paired with how the snowflakes stained her pitch black hair and rested peacefully on her eyelashes, the sight was beyond captivating. It took all of Chat’s energy to reply in a semi-normal fashion. All of the joking was gone from his voice, replaced by a tone of awe. “I uh...no. I’ve never experienced any...any of this.”

It wasn’t a lie. Standing there in her pink Christmas sweater with small snowflakes and santa faces stitched into the fabric she looked....she looked….incredibly cold. Chat nearly smacked himself in the forehead. Of course she was cold. It was freezing and he doubted that sweater had the same magical properties as his suit. “Oh my-Princess, you must be freezing. Please, go back inside. I’ve greatly enjoyed speaking with you tonight but-”

She reached out again and grabbed his elbow before he could turn away. “Would you like to come inside, too? We can warm up with some hot cocoa before I send you on your way. Maybe I can teach you a bit more about Christmas? Since you have an obvious gap in your knowledge.” Her voice was light and carefree, which was not a tone Adrien typically associated with Marinette. She usually seemed to be thinking of a million things at once. Come to think of it, she probably was now and was just doing a great job of hiding it. Maybe he wasn’t the only one on this balcony who knew how to wear a facade. 

“I uh…” He wanted to. He  _ really _ wanted to. Marinette’s house and room were always so warm, filled to the brim with personality and familial love. It glowed warmly in contrast to the freezing cold night and the freezing cold house he’d have to return to eventually. 

“I know you’re probably busy, but just a few minutes to warm up. How long have you been outside, anyway?”

He smiled, not planning on answering that. “Actually, hot cocoa sounds amazing. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

She released another smile worth all the stars in the sky. “Of course. I’m not about to leave anyone alone on Christmas morning, least of all the hero of Paris.” She grabbed his hand and headed towards the trapdoor. Together, they crawled across her bed and slid down her ladder into her room (Chat was careful to keep his shoes off her sheets). Once down on the ground level, she gestured around. “Please, help yourself and feel free to sit anywhere. My parents need to get up in a few hours to open the bakery for a little bit in the morning, so we need to make sure we don’t wake them. I’ll run down and get us some proper Christmas snacks. Be right back.” She disappeared before Chat had a chance to thank her, or say anything in reply. 

“She’s so wonderful,” he spoke to himself in the unnaturally empty space. Looking around, he was met with nothing but Christmas. Multicolored lights glowed as they strung back and forth across her room. A small tree was set up in the corner, complete with lights, ornaments, a tree skirt and presents placed perfectly beneath. Even quiet, instrumental Christmas music flowed from the speakers of her computer. Off in the corner, her workbench was littered with bright fabrics of all sorts, which made sense. Marinette had come to school the last day before break with custom-made ugly sweaters for Alya and Nino. Orange and green fabric, tinsel, glitter and sequence was laying all around her sewing machine. Apparently they’d commissioned Rena Rogue and Carapace sweaters for one another. Couple goals for sure.

Strangely enough, there seemed to be an awful lot of black fabric around, too and some hints of red. Probably other holiday commissions she hadn’t yet cleaned up. Actually...it looked like there was a fully completed sweater off to the side of her workspace. Chat took a few steps towards it, preparing to investigate when the trap door creaked open again. He snapped to attention, his hands clamping behind his back and his shoulders squaring to the other person in the room. 

Marinette emerged, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate in each hand and a small plate of croissants with her teeth. She smiled at Chat who immediately rushed forward and took the plate from her mouth. “Oh, thank you. Dental power only goes so far.” she smiled again, more successfully, and walked over to her computer desk. Turning around, she offered one cup to Chat who happily accepted it. He followed her example and sat down in the nearby office chair, just as they had for their video game practice all those months ago. 

“Okay, now for some proper education. This,” she held her drink up a little higher, “This is the famous Dupain-Cheng hot cocoa, made especially during the holidays. Tell me what you think.”

Chat narrowed his eyes a little bit and lifted the steaming mug to his mouth. He blew on it fiercely before sipping ever so slowly. Although he burned a good portion of his tongue, the taste buds that persevered the temperature were met with what was easily the best cocoa Adrien had ever had in his life. The chocolate was rich, clearly something of high quality and there had to have been spices added in. Flavors like cinnamon, nutmeg and clove drifted on top of the flavor, bringing the essence of Christmas to his taste buds. Beneath those were other tones, though he couldn’t place them specifically. They were unique and probably didn’t belong in a sweet drink. Except they fit perfectly with the rest of the flavor profile. It was beautiful. It was a masterpiece. “This is litter-ally best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, Princess. It’s absolutely paw-some.”

Marinette smiled, casually drinking her own beverage as if it wasn’t boiling. “Did you just make a litter pun?”

He shrugged, not looking up from the deliciousness in front of him. “It’s a cat thing. It counts.”

“Sure,” Marinette huffed, setting her mug back down. “Okay, so I brought the two Christmas necessities here, hot cocoa and croissants. Then we’ve got a Christmas tree, some lights and ornaments, some presents. The whole shebang. What do you think?” 

Chat set his half-empty mug down on her desk, rubbing his terribly-burnt tongue across the ridge on the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t going to be able to taste things properly for a few days, but it had definitely been worth it. Following Marinette’s sweeping arm movement, he looked out across her bedroom. Everything seemed to sing together in harmony, creating the perfect idea of Christmas. It was as if she’d reached inside a Hallmark movie, plucked out a scene and pasted it in her room. “So this is...what was it? Cusp-Marks?” He smiled as she rolled her eyes at his truly awful mispronunciation. “It’s beautiful,” the words fell from his mouth and toppled under his breath. Hopefully she hadn’t heard that last part. 

“Yes, Chat Noir, this is  _ Christmas _ . Or, at least, my version. Everyone’s tends to differ a little based on family tradition. But this one’s all me. Here, have a Christmas Croissant.” She picked up the plate hosting the pile of delectable pastries and offered it to him. He’d only been over here a few times, but he’d been well-fed on each occasion. Clearly this time was no different. 

He took the plate happily with one hand and reached out for a pastry with his other but stopped suddenly. They were dyed red and green, with little sprinkles all over the top of them. Beautifully decorated and very Christmass-y. Which was….it was a little strange. People didn’t normally dye or decorate croissants like this, did they? “One quick question.”

Marinette noticed his hesitation and raised her eyebrow in lieu of a response. 

“Again, excuse my French, but what the hell is a Christmas Croissant?” This ponderment was legitimate. Adrien had never heard of such a thing. What was the difference between this pastry and all the other’s in Paris (other than the fact that this one had been made by his very good friend in her phenomenal bakery)? 

“My, my, you do have quite the vocabulary tonight, Chat Noir. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Her harmless chuckle was evidence she had no clue of the damage she’d just caused. 

Chat’s entire body went numb. His ears rang for a single moment and everything fell away as he latched on to a memory of his mother laughing on Christmas Eve. Adrien had snuck downstairs one night, determined to catch Santa in the act. Instead, he’d come face to face with his mother reading by the tree. His sudden presence had scared the daylights out of her, but she quickly covered the emotion with a golden smile. 

_ You’re too quiet when you want to be, mon minou. Maybe we should put a bell on you? _

She’d crouched down to his level, tickling him with one hand and hugging him with the other. His laughter filled the atrium with the sound of pure joy - exactly what one expected to hear on Christmas. Together, he and his mom had walked to the kitchen. She’d pulled out a mug and pastry and they shared a cup of hot chocolate and a single croissant as the bells chimed across Paris, ushering in Christmas morning. 

“ _ Chat Noir _ ?” The voice pressed harder, trying to get his attention. Adrien snapped from the warm memory, noticing the broken glass on the floor in front of him. He and Marinette were exactly where they had been but the plate…

He must’ve dropped the plate. Of course he did. Because Marinette had been nothing but kind to him and here he was, smashing her dishes and contaminating her beautiful pastries with whatever germs lay on the floor. 

“I’m so sorry!” Chat immediately slipped from his chair to the ground. His weight shifted on his knees as he frantically picked up the broken shards, collecting them into his hands. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. I have no idea what happened, I must’ve had a muscle spasm or-” He was cut off by her hand reaching down for his. Slowly, she pushed back her chair and sat on the floor beside him. 

“Chat, it’s okay. Don’t worry about the plate. I’m pretty sure it was a gift from a relative we don’t like that much anyway. No big deal, seriously. And besides, we have like, a thousand croissants left. In fact, we need to get rid of some of them. Here, let me help.” She copied his motions, picking up the mess beside him. Once everything was in a pile, Marinette reached over and held her trash can up for him to dump the remains into. Within minutes it was if the whole ordeal had never happened. 

They remained seated on the floor. Chat was too paralyzed to move, still. He felt awful, incredibly guilty. He’d already kept Marinette outside in the cold longer than she should’ve been, he was keeping her awake, he’d intruded into her room and now he’d broken her plate. It seemed about time for him to leave and stop making a mess of her life. She deserved better than that. Much better. 

“I uh...I should probably be going,” he started, moving to stand up but Marinette caught him. Again. 

“Wait, Chat, you owe me.” Even  _ he _ felt his ears deflate with the statement. Of course he owed her. Did he really think she was going to forgive him without any compensation? Not even Marinette’s kindness went that far. 

“Of course, I’ll pay you back, I swear. I’ll drop an envelope off tomorrow with money-”

“No, no. I don’t want money. Or-” she cut him off before he could offer an alternative. “Or another plate. Seriously. I think you just did us a favor by breaking this one, actually. Can I...can I ask you a question instead? Not like your identity or anything. I’m just curious about something. Could you answer it truthfully and then we’ll call it even?” She adjusted her sitting position so her legs were folded, like an attentive child listening to their teacher read a picture book at school. 

“Uh….” He didn’t get a full chance to respond before she asked her question anyway. 

“Why were you outside tonight? You should be at home with your family. Or, at the very least, they’re probably wondering where you are. Is everything okay?”

He sat back on his heels as soon as he heard it. Man, what a loaded question. Adrien sighed. He’d even thought about Marinette’s unusually high emotional intelligence earlier this evening. Of course she picked up on the subconscious clues he’d been leaving her. Of course she knew the exact questions to ask. And of course she’d guilted him into being honest.

Maybe he could still be cryptic, though. “To be honest, no one’s looking for me tonight. The holidays are rough, especially Christmas. I uh...it’s a family thing, sorry.” That counted as an answer, right?

“Something to do with your mom?”

It was as if someone had stabbed him in the heart with a needle. At the mere mention of the woman, tears pricked in Adrien’s eyes from the pain in his chest. He’d tried. He’d tried so, so hard, but they were already flowing over his mask and down his face. “I just miss her a lot.” His face followed the path of his tears, angling down towards the ground. This was pathetic.

Marinette moved forward without hesitation, wrapping him in a surprisingly tight hug. She held him silently for a minute, neither saying anything. Adrien easily could’ve stayed in the embrace forever, but he’d worn out his welcome long ago. It was time to go home. He pulled away from her quietly, wiping the back of his hand against his face. Thankfully, only a few tears had slipped past his defenses.

“I’m sorry,” is the only comment Marinette verbally offered. He knew she didn’t know what to say. No one ever did. ‘I’m sorry’ was common but Adrien had never understood it. It wasn’t her fault. What was he supposed to respond, ‘it’s okay’? Because it wasn’t. But that wasn’t _ her  _ fault. 

“It’s okay,” the rehearsed words marched out of his mouth anyway. 

“Did she like Christmas?” Marinette tested gently. 

Adrien shut his eyes and looked off to the side. He didn’t want to think about it. It would cause far too many emotions. His father had made sure to teach him how detrimental emotions could be, especially with Hawkmoth on the loose. So he’d shut away the memories that made his heart ache. He’d shut away the triggers and forced himself to overcome these feelings of weakness. He’d tried to be strong. 

But his mother’s presence was stronger. Warm and golden, like the star on top of the tree that had been lit up all day. She radiated heat and happiness. Adrien would gladly sit at the edge of the tree skirt, watching his mother glimmer and glow throughout the holiday season. She flashed smiles like the blinking lights strung across the tree. Adrien’s father used to pick him up to place ornaments on the branches. He used to stand on his father’s shoulders to get a closer look at their shimmering tree topper. It had always been within reach.

The harsh reality he’d been avoiding was that it wasn’t anymore. He couldn’t reach the star on the highest branch. Sitting down on the floor, he couldn’t reach the top. He couldn’t reach his mother. 

“She loved Christmas,” Chat told Marinette quietly. “It’s just not the same…” He  _ really _ needed to leave before this got out of control. At home, in the safety of his own bedsheets, he could break down, knowing Plagg was watching over him. Not here, though. He couldn’t do that to Marinette. 

“It’s not going to be the same, Chat.” Her voice was the falling snow outside, soft and gentle. He looked up to her, surprise evident in his eyes. No one had said something like that to him. Everyone usually went on about how everything would be fine, he’d just need time and that it would all be okay one day. Except it had been two years and it still felt just as bad as that first day. 

Marinette continued in light of his silence. “You know, I actually have this friend at school, Adrien. Yeah,  _ the  _ Adrien Agreste. It’s pretty insane that he goes to  _ my _ school when he’s so rich and famous and kind hearted…” She rambled on for a second before snapping back to attention. “Anyway, he uh, well he lost his mom, too, not too long ago. I can’t say I’ve spoken to him about it at all or that I’ve seen a fragment of his grieving process, but I think that’s just it. I haven’t seen his grieving process. I mean, sure, I’m not his best friend and we don’t hang out that often, but I haven’t seen  _ anything _ .” She paused again with the revelation as if she hadn’t expected to stumble upon this conclusion. 

Adrien, sitting across from his classmate as she talked about him without knowing, could only watch Marinette ramble on. He was frozen solid by her words, unable to move or react. 

“What I guess I’m trying to say is, you kind of remind me of him. I know Christmas is hard for him, too. Something happened last year and he kinda went missing for a few hours but if you ask me, I think he ran away for a bit and then changed his mind. Instead of being alone, he must’ve realized how much better it is to have company. People you can share your Christmas spirit with. But not just that. You need people you can share everything with, your worries, your happiness, your sadness- the full package. Adrien is still figuring that all out. I think you need to do the same, Chat.” She smiled softly again and Adrien was trying to figure out how a facial expression could feel like a weighted blanket draped across his chest. Her words pushed down on his shoulders, keeping him grounded in this world as a flood of emotions poured over him. For the first time in a while, though, he wasn’t scared of feeling them. He didn’t feel like he could get lost in his grief this time.

Marinette reached out and held his hand, squeezing slightly. He spoke up quietly, trying in some way to repay the gift she’d given him. “So..you’re saying this ‘spirit of Chex-Mix’ is about spending time with and remembering loved ones?” For the first time that evening, Chat Noir smiled genuinely. Because he felt the happiness his mother had given him that Christmas Eve all those years ago. Despite knowing he’d never feel something like that ever again, it wasn’t a reason to block off all happy emotions today. He was starting to realize that it was okay to hurt. Maybe...maybe that was part of the healing process. 

He still had water glistening in his eyes, but he watched Marinette’s grin spread across her face like wildfire. “Well, the spirit of Chex Mix is gluten free. We’re talking about the spirit of  _ Christmas _ , here. Two very different things.” She pushed herself to her feet in a single movement and offered a hand down to Chat. He gladly accepted. 

“Thank you, Marinette. I’m sorry for-”

“No, no. No ‘sorrys’, Chat. You needed some help, and that’s perfectly fine. I’m glad you let me help out, even though I kinda forced my advice upon you.”

His bell chimed slightly as his shoulders bounced with a chuckle. “Well, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” They fell to silence for a few minutes as Chat glanced around again, trying to look anywhere but Marinette’s face. He didn’t know how he’d react to her beautiful smile. “Your uh...your room is set up beautifully. I think this is exactly what I’d want my Christmas to look like. Oh, and I bet your croissants were delicious, too. Sorry I killed them accidentally. Power of destruction and all,” He held his hand up and waved it lethargically. 

Marinette’s eyes widened suddenly. “OH! Of course! The croissants! Stay here, I’ll be right back!” She turned and bolted out of the room suddenly, her small feet quietly thumping on the stairs. It didn’t take very long for Chat to hear her soft slippers pounding back up in an identical pattern. She returned holding two croissants, one red and one green. Offering the green one to Chat, she smiled. “We never finished our Christmas croissants.”

“And you never explained what the-” Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as the curse caught in his throat. “You never told me what the  _ heck _ a Cult-Match Croissant is.”

She snorted loudly, then immediately clasped her hand over her mouth. After a second, she hesitantly removed it and reclaimed her dignity. “Points for creativity on that one, honestly. But the croissants are just a tradition for my family. We always bake them on Christmas Eve and have them for breakfast the next day. When I was little, I convinced my parents to dye them and let me decorate. We’ve done it ever since.”

Chat smiled back and held up his croissant to her. “What a radi- _ claw _ story. How about we cheers to a good Chuck-Melt then, huh? You deserve an amazing holiday, Purrincess.”

Marinette met his pastry with her own, creating an incredibly dull and silent clink. “As do you. Merry….um…” A lightbulb went off in her head. “Merry Crisp-Ex, Chat Noir.”

The brilliance of her smile was everything. The way her eyes glowed softly in the twinkling of the Christmas lights was everything. The way her heart couldn’t help but melt from her body and flow into those around her was everything. She was everything.

Maybe the lights through the city didn’t have to remind him of the loss of his mother. Maybe he could think of this night from now on, when he remembered the love of the memory. He could remember when he felt the amity of a friend who’d always be there to help him. Maybe the lights could just remind him of love from now on. 

Chat smiled at the girl, thumping his croissant against hers again, as if reinforcing the meaning of it all. “Merry Crisp-Ex, Marinette.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the completed sweater Chat sees on her workbench is the Christmas sweater Ladybug made for Chat Noir that she plans to give him later that day (just a cute detail I wanted to include but it didn't really fit in). 
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
